Naruto: Being a Shinobi with no System But...

Bonus chapter

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News that Grass Village ninja had attacked Iwagakure outposts within the Grass Country borders quickly reached Ōnoki.

The Third Tsuchikage studied the intelligence report, his brow tightening.

They dared to strike while I’m still here?

But such matters couldn’t be dismissed simply because they seemed unlikely.

Iwagakure’s frontline forces had been shuffling and withdrawing frequently. Konoha likely knew of these movements—and if they did, Grass Village, the host nation, certainly wouldn’t be blind to it either.

Just like every hidden village, Grass had both radical and conservative factions. If one of them saw Iwagakure’s weakness and decided to take advantage… it wouldn’t be impossible.

With that thought, Ōnoki made his decision.

Whether the attackers were truly Grass shinobi or not didn’t matter—the priority was securing the withdrawal route.

If this kind of incident wasn’t contained quickly, then even if Grass wasn’t behind it now, they soon would be.

”Kitsuchi.”

The tent flap lifted, and his burly son entered, bowing slightly. ”Tsuchikage-sama.”

”You’ll lead three elite squads. Deal with those rats swiftly—cleanly. And once it’s done, take their heads to Grass Village as a warning.”

Kitsuchi nodded, turning to leave—

”Wait,” Ōnoki called after him. ”Has Konoha’s probing become more frequent lately?”

”Yes,” Kitsuchi replied. ”Small-scale infiltration and recon have increased by about thirty percent.”

Ōnoki’s eyes narrowed. Seeing that his father had no further questions, Kitsuchi departed with his men.

Watching his eldest son’s back disappear beyond the tent, Ōnoki exhaled softly.

’Besides Kitsuchi… who else in Iwagakure can still be relied on?’

His mind returned to the problem at hand.

Konoha’s recent actions were… off. Not just because they’d discovered Iwagakure’s thinning frontlines, but because of how they reacted afterward.

Instead of feigning ignorance, they’d started probing more actively.

’Are they planning an assault? But why?’

Logically, Konoha should be holding their lines—they’d already pushed Iwagakure back into Grass territory. That alone was a strategic victory.

If not for that reasoning, he never would’ve pulled back Han first.

’Perhaps… a counterattack to test Konoha’s resolve is in order.’

The idea flickered—and then Ōnoki crushed it.

No. The retreat route came first. He’d wait for Kitsuchi to eliminate the Grass threat before making any further moves.

For just a few enemy squads, it shouldn’t take long.

At least, that was what Ōnoki believed—until the next day came and Kitsuchi still hadn’t returned.

Just as Ōnoki prepared to check the situation himself, Bunta, the jōnin temporarily in command of the front line, rushed into the command tent, face grave.

”Tsuchikage-sama! There’s movement on Konoha’s line—they’re preparing a large-scale assault!”

”What?!” Ōnoki snapped his head up, fury flashing in his eyes.

’They dare to attack while I’m still here?!’

’Have I gone soft from waiting too long?!’

BOOM—!

RUMBLE—!

Before his anger could cool, deafening explosions thundered from the direction of Kannabi Bridge.

Konoha’s assault had already begun.

The shinobi of Earth Country were not known for overwhelming offense, but their defenses were unmatched.

Even caught off guard, the Iwa lines responded with discipline.

Shouts mingled with the roar of detonations. Hand signs flashed.

Massive Earth Release walls erupted from the ground, intercepting volleys of explosive kunai mid-flight.

The terrain warped under chakra control—sinking, shifting—to throw off Konoha’s advance formations.

Counter-fire followed: dense clusters of stone bullets screaming through the air, colliding with Konoha’s explosives and detonating them prematurely in midair.

The first wave of Konoha’s long-range assault was nearly nullified.

Their momentum stalled.

But only for a heartbeat—

”Fire Release: Great Fire Dragon Technique!”

”Fire Release: Great Flame Technique!”

”Wind Release: Great Breakthrough!”

The second wave struck—this time, a wall of fire.

Dozens of Konoha shinobi unleashed their jutsu at once, flames surging across the narrow bridgefront.

The heat forced Iwagakure’s front rank to fall back slightly, the air itself shimmering.

But even that inferno couldn’t breach the stone bulwark before it.

The Earth Release walls blackened and cracked—but held.

A few Iwa-nin chuckled from behind the barricades, sneering at Konoha’s wasted chakra.

Then, through the blazing curtain of fire—

Lightning.

Blinding streaks of white-blue tore through the inferno, colliding head-on with the flames.

The resulting explosion was apocalyptic.

The Earth Walls shattered.

Rubble, sparks, and shards of stone rained down on Iwagakure’s line like a storm.

Blinding light seared their vision; several shinobi screamed, clutching their eyes as chaos rippled through the ranks.

”Don’t panic! Reform the line! Watch for follow-up attacks!” Bunta’s voice bellowed over the confusion.

High above, Ōnoki’s expression darkened.

This wasn’t a mere probe.

Konoha intended to fight.

He descended to the command post and summoned Rōshi.

The Four-Tails’ Jinchūriki returned to the battlefield, ascending a high platform crafted by Iwa-nin through Earth Release.

Under cover fire, a black sphere of dense chakra formed—and then launched toward Konoha’s positions.

Just as it tore through the air, a masked figure stepped onto the front lines.

The ground erupted.

Thick, twisting trees exploded from the soil—arching and coiling together into a massive wooden barrier that intercepted the Tailed Beast Ball’s path.

Tailed Beast chakra clashed violently with the living force of Wood Release.

The black sphere crushed the wood, shredding it apart—but the regenerative vitality of the jutsu kept reforming, deflecting the blast’s direction until it barely skimmed Konoha’s flank and detonated far off in the distance, erupting into a towering mushroom cloud.

The moment the Tailed Beast Ball was diverted, Ōnoki appeared above the wooden bulwark, his hands forming seals.

A transparent, cubic light flared in his palms—

Dust Release.

But before it could fire, a blur shot from Konoha’s line, a dark shadow slicing through the air toward his waist.

Ōnoki was forced to twist away, breaking the technique, flipping backward awkwardly but avoiding the strike by inches.

He steadied himself, scowling down at the source of the attack—

—and froze.

From Konoha’s position, a familiar figure stepped forward.

Black combat armor. Shoulder guards. Forearm guards. A long staff in hand.

And that unmistakable, calm killing intent.

”Third Hokage… Hiruzen Sarutobi,” Ōnoki hissed through gritted teeth. ”So you’ve come too.”

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